"Figures" lyrics
Grrah-boaw-boaw-boaw
Bee, fah, fah
Made a opp disappear, nigga, like a genie
Your bitch givin' head, like a beanie
He cap for the net 'cause he won't come see me
I'm signed to the streets, I ain't signing no treatie
And I'm movin' these packs like a motherfuckin' widget
And I'm spinnin' his block like a motherfuckin' fidget
You rock hand me down, nigga, my shit fitted
I ain't goin' for nothin', yo' whole block get it
Don't go back there, boy, yo' thot in the back
I came up off a play and I ain't goin' back
Boy, you niggas ain't gang, ain't no flag on your back
I'm fuckin' this bitch and I'm pulling her tracks
If he keep talkin' shit, I'ma send him his bitch, traps
Me and my gang got big straps
Said he better than me, I don't get that
And yo' man just died, get your lick back
You needa get your lick back, nigga
I'm in New York and I'm countin' up figures
Hundreds and fifty's look good in my pictures
These niggas want beef with me just 'cause I'm richer
Lil' Dami going up
I ain't lovin' these hoes, they gon' fuck up my trust
Gettin' this money a must
If my bro throw the oop, I'ma run that shit up
Made a opp disappear, nigga, like a genie
Your bitch givin' head, like a beanie
He cap for the net 'cause he won't come see me
I'm signed to the streets, I ain't signing no treatie
And I'm movin' these packs like a motherfuckin' widget
And I'm spinnin' his block like a motherfuckin' fidget
You rock hand me down, nigga, my shit fitted
I ain't goin' for nothin', yo' whole block get it
Don't go back there, boy, yo' thot in the back
I came up off a play and I ain't goin' back
Boy, you niggas ain't gang, ain't no flag on your back
I'm fuckin' this bitch and I'm pulling her tracks
If he keep talkin' shit, I'ma send him his bitch, traps
Me and my gang got big straps
Said he better than me, I don't get that
And yo' man just died, get your lick back
You needa get your lick back, nigga
I'm in New York and I'm countin' up figures
Hundreds and fifty's look good in my pictures
These niggas want beef with me just 'cause I'm richer
Lil' Dami going up
I ain't lovin' these hoes, they gon' fuck up my trust
Gettin' this money a must
If my bro throw the oop, I'ma run that shit up (Gang)
Bee, fah, fah
Made a opp disappear, nigga, like a genie
Your bitch givin' head, like a beanie
He cap for the net 'cause he won't come see me
I'm signed to the streets, I ain't signing no treatie
And I'm movin' these packs like a motherfuckin' widget
And I'm spinnin' his block like a motherfuckin' fidget
You rock hand me down, nigga, my shit fitted
I ain't goin' for nothin', yo' whole block get it
Don't go back there, boy, yo' thot in the back
I came up off a play and I ain't goin' back
Boy, you niggas ain't gang, ain't no flag on your back
I'm fuckin' this bitch and I'm pulling her tracks
If he keep talkin' shit, I'ma send him his bitch, traps
Me and my gang got big straps
Said he better than me, I don't get that
And yo' man just died, get your lick back
You needa get your lick back, nigga
I'm in New York and I'm countin' up figures
Hundreds and fifty's look good in my pictures
These niggas want beef with me just 'cause I'm richer
Lil' Dami going up
I ain't lovin' these hoes, they gon' fuck up my trust
Gettin' this money a must
If my bro throw the oop, I'ma run that shit up
Made a opp disappear, nigga, like a genie
Your bitch givin' head, like a beanie
He cap for the net 'cause he won't come see me
I'm signed to the streets, I ain't signing no treatie
And I'm movin' these packs like a motherfuckin' widget
And I'm spinnin' his block like a motherfuckin' fidget
You rock hand me down, nigga, my shit fitted
I ain't goin' for nothin', yo' whole block get it
Don't go back there, boy, yo' thot in the back
I came up off a play and I ain't goin' back
Boy, you niggas ain't gang, ain't no flag on your back
I'm fuckin' this bitch and I'm pulling her tracks
If he keep talkin' shit, I'ma send him his bitch, traps
Me and my gang got big straps
Said he better than me, I don't get that
And yo' man just died, get your lick back
You needa get your lick back, nigga
I'm in New York and I'm countin' up figures
Hundreds and fifty's look good in my pictures
These niggas want beef with me just 'cause I'm richer
Lil' Dami going up
I ain't lovin' these hoes, they gon' fuck up my trust
Gettin' this money a must
If my bro throw the oop, I'ma run that shit up (Gang)
Writer(s): David Wallace, Brooklyn Rodriguez, Michael Denis, Mekhi Britt
